


Beautiful Destruction

by Myrtilla



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Lost love/friendship, Pregnancy, Resentment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 04:13:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1804903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myrtilla/pseuds/Myrtilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The household of Honolulu Heights is falling apart; Annie and George struggle to control their grief while Nina can barely contain her resentment. Only the hopes and fears for George and Nina's unborn child hold their family together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Broken Trinity

I was angry with my friend:  
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.  
I was angry with my foe:  
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

A Poison Tree by William Blake

 

Nina heaved herself into a sitting position with a grunt; at two months she was still thirty weeks short of a full term pregnancy. She ran a hand over her swollen stomach, already an almost complete dome.   One of Annie’s well-meant but psychotic gestures had been to research wolf pregnancies, by Annie’s count she was due in two days.

“It’s kind of funny, in a…ironic way,” she had said with an attempt at her former cheeriness.

Annie had been almost normal the past week but working in a hospital meant Nina saw broken, grief-stricken people every day and knew the attempted mask of normality better than her own face.

“Knock, knock,” George peeked around the door, carrying a bowl.

“As requested. Strawberry ice cream, low fat with blueberries, which are good because of all the vitamin C on a root beer float.”

“Thank you,” she accepted the bowl and pulled him down for a kiss.

“How’s our cub going?” he asked, kneeling beside the bed to talk to her belly.

“I wish you wouldn't call it that.”

“Well we still need to talk names,” he counted playfully. “I’m still liking Gina-”

“I remember, and I said ‘or Norge’.”

“I’m sorry, Nina.  What do you like?”

“How about…Theodore.” She teased.

“Theodore Sands,” George tested.

“It’ll be Pickering Sands.”

“I can see him being beaten up already.”

“I meant for a girl.”

It was so good to see George laugh. He’d been the perfect expecting father almost to the smothering level.  Reading the mummy books as well as the daddy ones, practicing nappies and breathing techniques and even carrying her up the stairs and to the bathroom. She was a bit embarrassed by the last but grateful he hadn’t had to see her waddle.  But like Annie there were chinks in his act. More than once he’s cried as she’d pretended to be asleep. The way his entire body slumped whenever he let his mind wander off baby preparation. When he was at a loss his first impulse was still to glance around for someone no longer able to offer advice. Up until a few days before Annie had still cried openly.

They had both lost their best friend; Annie losing her lover in the same moment.

“I know you miss him,” Nina said gently, stroking George’s hair. “If you need to talk I’ll listen, but I know you did the right thing. 

“I know and I appreciate the gesture because I know how you felt in the end but I’m not ready-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nina interrupted sharply.

George sighed. “It’s only been a few weeks and I’m not ready to talk about my best friend in past tense.”

“No, got that. What were you implying by ‘how I felt’?”

“Nina, just forget it.”

“No I’d like to hear this. Don’t you walk away from me!”

George held up his hands. “Alight, just let me say the whole thing. OK?”

“Fine.”

“When I got the curse my whole life was in tatters. I ran and I hid from my family, I didn't know what to do. Mitchel was the one who helped me learn to cope with it. It was his idea to come to Bristol and the hospital cause all I could say was ‘and then what’-without him I’d never have met you or Annie and we wouldn't be having a baby together.” George knelt again and took her hands.  “He saved my life and kept on saving me every day for over two years after that.”

“Don’t give him too much credit,” Nina snorted.

“See that’s it. I know you hated him by the end, don’t deny it, on some level Annie and I might have too. Maybe if he’d told us sooner we could have helped but he never asked. But I know he never would have hurt us, or the baby.  I probably won’t ever see him again so I need to hold onto the memory of the man he really was not the monster he deteriorated to.”

Nina laughed and he drew back from her in horror.

“I’m sorry, George. I love you but listen to yourself. You’re just trying to convince yourself of something you want to believe.”

“And that’s why I can’t talk to you about him. You only see the monster; not the cool kid who stopped to help the chubby, geeky kitchen hand being bashed to death in an ally.” He stood up and moved to the door.

“I’m heading to the shops again. You want anything else?”

“Maybe something meaty, chicken?”

“See you later.”

………………..

_“What’s the deal with you and George? Every time I see you you’re together, like you’re attached at the hip.”_

_"You checking me out or him?” he took a drag of his cigarette. “You know he worries about me getting harassed in the workplace.”_

_For good reason, Nina couldn't help thinking. Although the hospital scrubs weren't flattering on anybody Mitchell wore them well; the exposed skin of his forearms were rich olive with lean but defined biceps. The same muscles were discernible in his legs and as he’d learnt over to hand back her lighter she noticed his shirt pulled taught across his chest, which she predicted would be just as hairy as his arms. With a face straight out of an oil painting and to her imagination, a body which would have fitted in at Calvin Klein, he was a dangerously appealing package._

_“Don’t worry you’re not my type, not anymore.”_

_One of the only semi worthwhile things her mother had told her was not to mess with boys like him. ‘Don’t waste your youth on the one who’s only after your twat.’_

_He didn't seem disappointed, pleased and intrigued actually._

_“What about George? Is he your type?”_

_“George is…George is weird.” Weird enough to get a friend to ask someone out for him apparently, just like shy grade 8._

_“No one’s denying that,” he said with a dazzling smile. “But once you get past weirdness he’s actually the nicest bloke you could ever meet….”_

………………..

It was true, she had to admit. George didn't have the self-confidence to ask a woman out like a normal guy.  Her darling, sweet George who had unwillingly dragged her into the supernatural world.

Her foul old mother might have approved of him, the gentle boy who still managed to knock her up by accident.  Barely a year ago she had been still human, a mundane ward sister in Bristol.

It wasn’t fair that the only man who’d ever loved her and who she’d truly loved in return was a werewolf. It wasn't fair that their lives and even her unborn child was compromised by the curse. She missed the ignorance and security of her previous life, the one she had begun to lose from the moment she’d agreed to that first date.

If her chance was offered again she would have gladly made the same mistakes over because nothing would ever compensate for not having George in her life. But he’d always been part of a package deal.

Was it wrong to wish life had turned out a little different? Was she a terrible person for being glad that Mitchell was dead so she didn't have to confront the truth that she wouldn't have trusted him around her child?

No, she decided.

What George and Annie couldn’t see about dormant monsters was that you shouldn't live at the base of a volcano just to enjoy the hot springs.


	2. Reminiscing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie struggles to accept reality

Her cups of tea and coffee once again covered every surface. A dozen or so mugs formed a circle around her on the floor; a floral one containing black coffee (two sugars) was clutched in her hands. It had gone cold over an hour ago but she had no way of knowing; even extreme temperatures had no effect on ghosts.

_‘ “…Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.”_   
  


**_“_ ** _But what about us?”_

__  
“We'll always have Paris. We didn't have, we, we lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night.”  
 **“** When I said I would never leave you—“

_  
**“** And you never will. But I've got a job to do, too. Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Ilsa, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that. Now, now...Here's looking at you kid.” ’_

The TV screen faded to black and was replaced toothpaste commercial.

Annie put down her mug and reached for another tissue. Nina’s new breast pump was sitting on the coffee table. With a twinge of curiosity Annie picked it up and weighed it in her hands. Were you really meant to attach that plastic thing to your breast? 

“Well that’s just weird,” she said aloud.

“Annie, what are you doing?” George put down a plastic shopping bag and stared at her.

“Nothing,” she blushed.  “But I don’t think Nina should use that thing.”

“Annie, it’s perfectly natural and normal,” George sighed. “And if Nina expresses milk then it means she can go back to work as soon as she wants.”

Annie followed him to the kitchen and helped unpack the groceries.

“So chicken kebabs are the winner today. And vegan pigs in a blanket.  What even is that, tofu in pastry?”

Annie had been half afraid that Nina would start craving raw meat. Although Nina had laughed at the idea a shadow of concern crossed her usually composed face. It was hard enough to picture Nina losing her self-control in labour but after the pain of the transformation each month there was no way she couldn’t handle it.

“I swear she’s screamed for food she didn’t even like before,” George sighed but with a smile.

“Any progress with names?”

“No not yet, I guess we’ll know when we see it. You got any suggestions?”

“Oh I always liked Lindsay for a girl. Maybe…John for a boy…”

George cleared his throat awkwardly. “I don’t think Nina would like that. Could we talk about something else, please?”

They settled into silence.

“I wonder what vampire pregnancies would be like,” said Annie.

“I don’t know,” sighed George. “Till a couple of months ago no one thought werewolves could get pregnant.”

“Oh I know, vampire dad and human mum. She’d probably start craving blood.”

“Maybe, I don’t know. Isn’t there a book you read for that? Dusk or something-”

“Oh, something worse. A werewolf/vampire baby, I wonder how that’d work-”

“Annie!”

“What? I’m just babbling…”

“Annie, I know how much pain you must be in. I’m feeling just as shit-“

“No you don’t!” Annie screamed, cutting him off. “You’ve got Nina. And the baby. You get to grow old together while I’m just stuck here forever. Have you even thought about what happens after you two die, huh? Werewolves become ghosts and they move on; God knows where vampires go. So even if I do pass over I’ll never see him again. Either I’m just stick around or I dissolve and float away.”

She collapsed onto the couch.

“And I didn’t even mind before cause I knew Mitchell would always stay with me.  but now he’s gone and I’m losing you too…” Annie broke off into sobs.

George sat down and wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m not going anywhere. We need you, you’re the godmother.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Huh?”

 She grabbed his wrist. Faded olive gloves, cut off at the middle knuckle and slightly stretched to accommodate a new pair of hands.

“Are those…?” she whispered. “Nina made me throw everything out. She said it was unhealthy keeping anything in the house like some stupid purge.”

“I’m sorry, it was stupid and immature of me,” he peeled of the gloves and dropped them in her lap.

“Take them, throw them out if you think that’s better.” She heard his footsteps head upstairs.

She slipped them over her own hands, loosely fitting, and held one to her face in hope of a familiar scent. Nothing.  As she pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her shins, Annie began to cry again.

…………………………

 “I have never…seen an R rated movie.”

“Get out,” Mitchell said. “That one’s definitely false.”

“No, I’m a good girl,” Annie smiled, stretching her legs across his lap. “Your turn.”

“I have never, been to a beach.”

“False?”

“No, true. Harder to cope with sunlight the more skin exposed.”

“What a waste,” she giggled.  “Hey um, how many people have you been with?”

“Like sexually, you mean?”

Annie blushed. “Yeah. I mean it doesn’t worry me, it’s just I’ve only ever been with three guys.”

He shifted closer to her. Annie rearranged herself so she could rest against his shoulder.

“So, how many?”

“Well, I guess probably…more than a hundred, less than a thousand.” About the same amount of people I’ve killed, Mitchell finished in his head.

“Oh, wow…”

“But like you said,” he said gently, tilting up her chin, “You’re a good girl.”

The kiss was gentle, sending a slight tingle through her lips.

“I’ve got an idea,” she said excitedly.

“What?”

“Let’s go to the beach.”

“Why? Annie, it’s the middle of the night-”

“Exactly. Just a sec.”

He felt a stomach churning lurch as she rent-a-ghosted.

“Jesus that was weird.”

Mitchell stood up shakily and held out a hand to help Annie to her feet. He watched her wander down to the water, small waves gently lapping at her slippers. She looked so beautiful in the eerie moonlight.

“What’re doing?”

“I can’t feel anything,” she laughed at her shoes, still completely dry. “Come on, you can swim can’t you?”

Tentatively she began to unbutton his shirt, planting icy kisses on collarbones and chest. She worked down the lean, toned body slowly, finally unzipping the fly on his jeans. Mitchell smiled as he stepped out of them and let Annie lead the way to the water.

At about thirty metres out they stopped treading water. Annie’s clothes hadn’t become waterlogged or heavy and the slight sensation of the water against her skin was pleasant. 

 

She angled her body against his, draping one leg around his waist and her arms around his neck. The second kiss was different; hungry and desperate. As their bodies ground together Mitchell bit down on her bottom lip, hard enough to have drawn blood. Annie emitted a small shiver of pleasure but was disappointed by no hardness as she pressed against his crotch. She slipped her hand down the waistband of his underwear and gripped the shaft of his cock.

“Annie, don’t,” he said breaking off the kiss. “It’s ok-”

“Just wait,” she cried. “Give it a second,”

“Annie, it doesn’t matter. Let’s just go back to the house.”

 

 

“Who are we kidding?”

“Annie don’t do this,” Mitchell pleaded. He dropped his wet clothes in the laundry basket and turned on the shower.

“You and me, there’s no future. We can’t have children, we can’t even have sex. What’sthe point?”

“Annie.”

She rushed into his arms, burying her face in his shoulder. He held her gently as she cried, one hand stroking her hair.

“Because it’s you and me,” he said quietly. “I’m never going to hurt you, I love you and I always will. Can’t that be enough?”

“Yeah, I think it can be,” she managed a weary smile. “Would you mind if I stayed?”

“Sure,” With a seductive smile he dropped the towel from around his waist and Annie followed into the shower cubicle. 

 


End file.
